


Wake Up Call

by rebel_diamond



Series: Alias [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 22:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17354168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebel_diamond/pseuds/rebel_diamond
Summary: *Winner of the 2018 Rumbelle Prompt Showdown*Written for Round 4 of the 2018 Rumbelle Prompt ShowdownAuthor: DeshelvedPrompts: skipped in line; back me up; bae





	Wake Up Call

Winter had finally given them a reprieve and it felt like something resembling spring. Everyone in Hyperion Heights was taking advantage. People were milling about the neighborhood, letting the sun touch their skin for the first time in months. Lacey leaned against the doorway to her building, breathing in deep. She lifted one bare leg to let it dangle in the rays. It was nice to hear kids outside and neighbors hollering across the street. With Victoria Belfrey buying buildings and raising rent, forcing people out of Hyperion Heights, it had started to feel less like a community. It was nice to know there were still some stubborn people like her left who refused to leave.

As if he’d demanded it, a throng parted, and she spied Weaver coming up the sidewalk. Despite Victoria’s gentrification, she assumed he made enough, and Victoria was interested in him enough, to keep him living in a better part of town. As he approached she saw he was carrying a takeout bag from the diner. He gave her one of his self-satisfied smirks and slowed when he got to her, holding out the bag.

“Grilled cheese for Gideon and a hamburger for you.” It was what they’d ordered at the diner.

Someone less jaded might read this for a kindness and take the bag, no questions asked. She’d seen him do the same countless times for the girl who hung out under the bridge, Tilly. Was that what this was? Charity? Did he expect something in return? Was he  _getting_  something in return from that Tilly girl? He wouldn’t be the first cop to have a similar arrangement going in this town. While she was hesitant to label Weaver as a dirty cop, she knew for a fact he didn’t give anything for free.

Instead of reaching for the proffered bag, she crossed her arms. “I know you’ve gotten us out of a few jams, but we don’t need to be another one of your charity cases, Detective,” she bristled. She didn’t like being so deep in his debt. It made her vulnerable in a world where he already held so much power over her.  

He took a step back, his cocky grin fading to a grim line, “That’s not what this is.” 

“Well, I don’t take things for  _favors_  either,” she sniffed, her emphasis conveying the salacious implication.      

Just then Gideon cut between them, coming come from school. “Hi, Detective Weaver,” he greeted happily. “That smells great,” he zeroed in on the brown paper bag. Polite as he was, he was still a twelve-year-old boy. Weaver offered it to Gideon. “Really? Oh wow! Thanks!” He seized the bag and bounded up the stairs to their apartment.

“What is it, Lacey?” Weaver asked impatiently, registering her displeasure.

“It’s Gideon,” she told him.

His eyes immediately filled with concern, “Has something happened?” His fingers twitched like he wanted to strangle someone.

“No. I mean, he’s going to get the wrong idea about us.”  

He visibly stiffened, “We wouldn’t want that.”

“I don’t want him to get used to you being around,” she explained, which sounded even worse, she knew, but she meant it. She couldn’t protect her son from the world, but she could shield him from this particular type of heartbreak. The one of men being around, and then not. Gideon was so good and trusting. Weaver had only been in his life for a short period of time and she already saw the hero worship in her son’s eyes. It was a seductive fantasy. This man coming to save them. To take care of them. To be a father figure to Gideon. She appreciated all he’d done for them, but she had to put some boundaries on their new ‘friendship’ or someone - Gideon - was going to get hurt.    

“Thank you for the food…Detective,” she said curtly, cutting off any argument from him. He pursed his lips, holding back what she knew was a sharp retort, gave her a curt nod, turned, and walked away from her.  

“Hey, Lacey,” her neighbor called out the window, “that your bae?”  

Lacey watched Weaver’s retreating back. Was it considering dating if most of your ‘dates’ end with a police report on the table between you?

“He’s a cop,” she said as a way of reply.

The woman shrugged, “Doesn’t mean he don’t have a fine ass.”

Lacey snorted. Not that she hadn’t had the same thought, but it was desperation making her think that way. God knows she wasn’t a virgin, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex either.

Gideon bounded down the stairs behind her. He was wearing a green army jacket he’d picked up at the thrift shop. She knew he’d chosen it because Weaver had a fatigue jacket just like it. “Mum, can I walk to the bakery?” The woman who ran the bakery in Hyperion Heights creeped Lacey out, but Gideon loved looking at the year-round gingerbread houses on display and she always gave him a free cookie.

“Yeah, but be careful,” she smoothed his hair as he slipped past her and towards downtown.

* * *

Weaver had received a reliable tip that the robbery attempt would be around two o’clock. Someone thought the blind woman who owned the bakery would make an easy target. But Hilda Braeburn was a tough old bird. You couldn’t get anything past her. He knew because he’d tried. Hilda had refused to shut down the bakery but had agreed to undercover police presence. He was glad for the work as he pulled the unmarked vehicle up to the curb. He’d been a fool to get distracted by Lacey and her kid.  _I’m not his father_ , he thought as he climbed out of the car.Weaver’s own father hadn’t been much of one and he didn’t know what being one would even look like. Lacey’s attitude towards him today solidified his resolve: he’d leave them alone from now on. If one of them got into any trouble, he’d forward it to Rogers to deal with.      

Through the bakery window he could see a line forming at the counter. A man brushed past him from behind and entered the shop. Weaver watched as he skipped the line, pulling his hood up over his face, and pulled out a gun, wielding it in the air as everyone in the store, except Hilda, ducked.

Weaver leaned into his cruiser window, clutching the microphone. He stated his badge number and location, “This is Weaver requesting back up.” The man obviously thought he could take everyone by surprise and get in and out quickly. Weaver pulled his gun but concealed it at his side as he approached the shop. If he could walk in acting like a regular customer, he had the potential to ambush the man. He gripped the door to the bakery, pulling it open.  

“Detective Weaver!” The familiar pitch of a boy whose voice hadn’t changed yet came from behind.  

Weaver spun around to put himself between Gideon and the developing scene inside. Had the armed man heard him? Movement in the shop told him he had. “Gideon, stay there!” he hollered. He knew his tone, more than his words, caused the boy to freeze. He’d known Gideon long enough to know he was terrified of upsetting the people he cared about.

Weaver heard the noise of course, but it only felt like he’d been punched hard on the back. It was the horror in Gideon’s eyes that made him realize that something had happened. Weaver looked down to see the dark stain quickly soaking the denim of his jacket. He numbly touched his chest, bringing away fingers coated in blood. The world tilted on its axis and he fought to stay upright. If he went down, no one would be there to protect Gideon.  _He had to protect Gideon._  The thought, random as it seemed, came with a powerful rush pain. But it wasn’t pain, exactly. It was..emotion.  

Weaver had to shut his eyes against the onslaught. His castle. Belle. Gideon.  _Gideon_. He opened his eyes. Gideon, his son, the boy they’d fought so hard for, was staring at him warily. But was this his son? Rumple fought the urge to hug him. It’s a feeling he was familiar with. He’d been beginning to fight it as Weaver. But if Gideon wasn’t awake, he didn’t want to scare him.  

Gideon flung himself at Weaver. Rumple hugged him tightly, “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he breathed, relieved but unsure of what to say. Was he awake? Or would he have to explain to a boy why he just saw a man get shot in the chest and not die?    

“Father,” he cried into his shoulder.

Rumple’s chest unclenched. He was awake. They were both awake. “I know, son. It’s alright. We’re together now.”

Gideon looked up at him with watery eyes, “But what about mum?”


End file.
